


I don't want to be here anymore

by Scottiedog17



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: I'll also leave it up to you who Lewis' husband is, I'll leave it up to you who George's friends are, Implied Mpreg, Its a bit shorter than normal, Its purposely a bit vague, M/M, this is the first time i've given something like this a go, written in the second person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 05:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30000285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scottiedog17/pseuds/Scottiedog17
Summary: You never wanted to be in this role. You wanted to be free, yet your world was changed when you met him. Everything changed with him. But he wasn't the one for you, he never was.
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton/George Russell, Nicholas Latifi/George Russell
Kudos: 8





	I don't want to be here anymore

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone,  
> Hope all of you are doing good. This is a little different from what I usually write, but I wanted to write something else. Let me know what you think and if you want to read something similar. I've finished most of my uni assignment essays, so I'll try my best to upload some more stuff and have some ideas.  
> This is a work of fiction, separate from real life and should stay on A03.  
> Hope you all enjoy,  
> Much love  
> Scottie Dog xx

You knew that you were special—a miracle baby to your parents, who had tried so hard to have a child. There had been vast celebrations after you were born, yet it was strange. There was always something that your parents tried to hide from you, have doors within the castle locked that your small hands had tired reaching as a child. You were a well-behaved, almost angelic child. Well mannered, polite. A model child, not like your playmates who were loud, messy and sometimes naughty. You were always jealous of them, wanting to misbehave, yet you knew you couldn't, not with the expectations on your head. The sense of duty and responsibility being drilled into you as a child.

You grew up into a tall, slim, handsome young man. Your face splayed across countless magazines and gossip pages. Everyone talking about you, who would be the one to take your hand. You didn't care about any of that because you know your parents would choose.

"This is the best thing for you. We need to keep our power."

They'd say when you'd ask. You knew it was true, yet it still felt unnatural and terrifying. It seemed that the concept of marriage was starting to infiltrate every aspect of your life as you grew, your parents becoming frantic about it. As is something terrible would happen if you didn't take a bride or a husband. You didn't care, still transfixed on those locked doors that both annoyed and fascinated you as a child. You were well aware that you needed to act like the young man who ticked all the boxes. The thing that that those long pointless lessons that you were forced to take as a child supposed to teach you. The reality was that you had never paid attention to them, too caught up with the ideas of running away with your childhood friends who had been your playmates since you were a toddler. You had learnt that was not possible, you instead knowing you were stuck in this role. A role that had excited you as a child, but now you weren't so sure.

You started to have your world change as you entered your 20s. Your parents were still frantic about getting you to the alter, even more so now. You'd had many multiple failed relationships. It had been challenging to accept that you were going to marry somebody you didn't want to, so you'd fought back. This had gained you sympathy and support from others, seeming to understand your pain, and yet your parents carried on. You had also grown apart from your childhood friends, each of them leaving, getting married and starting families of their own. You knew it had all be pre-decided for them, yet it hurt when they'd left—seemly willing to follow their parents' rules and plans. Yet you didn't, and you still weren't willing to follow. It seemed to worry about your parents, but you didn't care. You rebelled, caused trouble as best you could, showing your unhappiness at it all. You felt trapped. That was until you met him.

You'd passed him in one of the corridors after another failed attempt at opening the locked doors. You'd been so angry that you'd almost walked into him. It had been embarrassing; after all, you had a reputation to uphold. He didn't seem to mind, instead of asking if you were alright. He didn't ask your name, already knowing it. So you'd ask for his. Lewis, he'd later tell you as the pair of you lay together, in your bed, your bodies, naked and flushed, your fingers curled together. He never treated you like a child; he listened to what you said, and yet it always felt like there was something that wasn't telling you. You never questioned it, though, too caught up with the fact that you loved him. You knew that you were never going to be allowed to marry him. Amongst other things, he was 13 years your senior, and he didn't come from what would be seen as an 'acceptable' background for somebody like you. You never cared about that, always thinking those rules were silly. You told him that, and he'd laughed, telling you maybe it was for the best that you didn't marry. He seemed slightly carefully about that, laughing it off. Not being fully aware of your hurt feelings, but you couldn't let him see that, couldn't tell him that you were acting like a hurt child. It was a dangerous and thin line that the pair of you were walking, and you didn't want to snap that line by making a drastic change to the set up that you had found yourself in.

It went on that like for years; you felt like you finally felt happy. That was until you had your world shattered. The first was that he left you; you always knew that his husband would come before you. Yet, you didn't expect it when he pressed one final kiss to your forehead and told you he still loved you, but his husband took priority. You hadn't even had the opportunity to meet the husband, but you never felt you even had the strength. The perfect glass bubble that you'd built for yourself had shattered, and you no longer didn't know what to do. Your parents didn't know; you refused to let them know. Your friends didn't know as they were too busy with their own lives. It seemed like they'd forgotten about you a little, but that surprisingly didn't really seem to bother you that much anymore. You were just more focused on trying to get out of this place. You really felt trapped now. It was made worse when you discovered that you were carrying his child. One night, months ago. It certainly was a surprise, and you knew that this was for you to deal with on your own.

It amazed you how easily you could hide your growing belly, pulling your jumpers around you, desperately wishing that something was going to happen that was going to benefit you and your child. You were keeping the baby; you knew that much. You hadn't been sure, to begin with, but feeling the baby kick had changed that. You hadn't heard anything from him, but you didn't really mind that much now.

You figured you were going to be alone and would have to tell your parents. So you'd found yourself sitting on the grounds, trying to figure out what you were going to do when you heard a voice.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to disrupt you."

You looked up to see another guy looking at you, which caused you to smile.

"No, it's fine. Honestly, it's alright."

"I don't mean to pry, but you don't look like everything is alright. It is something bad?"

He asked, looking concerned with a small smile before he slowly sat down beside you. You pulled up your knees against your stomach.

"I suppose so, well I mean, I'm pregnant, and I don't know what to do."

"Is it Lewis Hamilton's?"

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"Rumours were surrounding it all. I'm sorry."

He sighed, giving a small smile, making you smile as well. You liked this guy, he seemed nice, but you wanted to make sure. You weren't going to let your heart be broken again.

"No, it's alright. I don't mind; I still want this baby. I just need to figure out what to do. That's all."

The pair of you stayed talking, and you found yourself laughing properly for the first time in months. It seemed natural talking to this guy. It carried on like that for months, building a relationship with him. Nicholas or Nicky, he told you when you asked for his name. He seemed fun, different from Lewis, but yet you found yourself falling for him. He seemed to get you, and that was all you could ask for. He even had offered to help you raise your baby. You had thought about it and had accepted. In fact, you found yourself revisiting the childhood fantasies of running away, but this time, it felt genuine. Nicky had agreed with you and was willing to help you. He told you he was from Canada and he was happy to move over there with you. You'd agreed, and now you found yourself sitting on an airplane seat, with him holding your hand, squeezing your hand in reassurance. You knew that this was the best thing for you and this baby.

"You ready?"

He turned his head to look at you with a small smile, which made you nod.

"Yeah, I'm ready. Well ready as I'm ever going to be."

You laughed again; it was slowly sinking in that this was the right thing for you, and you were ready for it. It was starting afresh, stepping away from your parents and stepping away from the world that you were born into but had never wanted to be in.

"Let's start afresh then, George."

"Yeah, let's do that."

You laughed before you pressed a kiss to Nicky's lips before feeling the plane taking off.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed it. I also hope your all looking forward to the kick-off of the F1 2021 season as well. I love also reading all your comments as well. They give me such a boost. My Tumblr is dyspraxic-fantasic. So feel free to come and say hello if you want.


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